Once Upon a Time
by LilCassandra
Summary: La Nouba verse: the story of the Lost Ballerina and Pierrot Clown has become legendary, but is all as it appears to be?
1. Propel

It is easier to hide beneath my mask than show my face to the outside world. I am forever the symbol of sadness, the clown that women cluck and sigh over as he passes by. I know this world pities me, and I'd rather show my mask to them than the anger I truly feel at their condescension.

But, then, how could they not pity me? It is clear for all to see that my heart belongs to one that will never truly be mine. I loved her the moment I first heard her soft footsteps behind me and my eyes caught her twirling in the moonlight. The Lost Ballerina, oblivious to any all around her in those early days. She was a vision in her white gown, her feet never ceasing to move, her arms gracefully leading her steps from one point of the stage to another. For a moment, she saw me and stopped, giving me a smile that captured my heart in an instant. Then, just as quickly, she had resumed her dance, forgetting me in the darkness where I gazed after her.

My Columbina, my love, my life. She is all and nothing, perfection and distraction combined.

I could not blame her. In her innocence, she couldn't know what an effect she would have on those around her. All she cared for was her dance. I would give anything for her to love me, even for an instant, as much as her craft. It was after weeks of watching her that I finally stepped in and offered her my hand. It startled her at first, I suppose. None had ever disrupted her dance, having been too enraptured by her movements to consider it. But then slowly, hesitatingly, she placed her porcelain hand in my own, and I led her into a twirl. She laughed as we fell into the steps easily, the chemistry between us taking the dance to new heights. The sparkle in her eyes was intoxicating and, for a brief moment, I stopped to allow my lips to touch hers. Then I pulled away, unsure of how to take her confusion, and simply resumed the dance.

Over time, I sometimes took off my mask, allowing her to see my true face underneath the stock visage of the Pierrot Clown. I grew comfortable in her gaze alone. Months of our courtship passed as my Columbina urged me to shed all of my layers, to show myself as I was rather than the part that this world's maker had given me. And so, finally, she saw me as myself, the white beneath the steel blue of my costume a match to her own. She squealed in happiness as she saw me that first time. Her happiness, just like all else about her, was addictive.

And then, I made my fatal mistake. I knew that all couples in the world truly matched, and though our whites coincided, my own costume had tints of green that glowed in the light while hers did not. I knew that she, too, was not who she appeared to be, that the Lost Ballerina was a role that my Columbina had been handed. So, in my ignorance, I ripped her skirt from her, revealing the green underneath, taking from her the last layer that was not hers.

Our eyes locked, but then she faltered. She looked over my shoulder. I turned and saw the Pierrot Rouge, my twin, my exact opposite. She smiled at him and moved past me to touch his outstretched hand.

It was only the beginning of our battle.

**Author's Note: So, yes, I've been off the grid for a while, and I have my other stories to continue, but I just came back from WDW and saw La Nouba for the fifth time. The story of the Lost Ballerina and Pierrot Clown have always been the Romeo and Juliet of the show. What's less noticed is how what separates them is not circumstances but the fact that she strays constantly, whether to the Pierrot Rouge or the Aerial Artist in Silk. I wanted to explore this relationship in a series of drabbles. Each will be from one character's point of view: first the Pierrot Rouge, then the Lost Ballerina, and finally the Aerial Artist in Silk, with each drabble being followed by another chapter by the Pierrot Clown. Don't know if that makes sense. Anyhow, please review. I really want to know what people think as this has no ebta!**


	2. Urban

As restless as a butterfly, they call me. Being called the Pierrot Rouge, the assumption is fitting. I'm named after a creature I can never become, an ability I can never fully achieve. If I cannot fly, then my acrobatics are the closest I will ever come to them. So I twist, turn, and flip my way throughout the world. It isn't to show off, as some might assume. It is just a way to replace my unachievable desires.

To be completely honest, I never sought her out. She had never appealed to me when she first entered our world. Her steps were perfect, her costume pristine, every aspect of her crafted like a china doll. It was beauty to the others but ugliness to me. I seek creation, explosion, and passion. I am who I am and want another that simply is themselves. If the Pierrot Clown was content to love a statue, then more power to him. I did not envy his choice.

Then something happened that I had not expected. Already I had been seeking out the Pierrot Clown with a renewed interest. He had shed his mask and had begun to soar with his movements. To escape the shell imposed on oneself is no simply task. I silently congratulated him, though I also equally looked down upon him for continuing to love a creature that had not evolved as he had.

It was in this hidden contemplation that I saw an event that reverberated throughout our world. With a movement, he had taken her skirt from her and not been protested for it. That Ballerina, that pathetic doll, was morphed into something breathtaking. They continued to dance, but now in her movements I saw that she no longer cared for perfection. Their was a new edge and depth to her that had not previously existed.

To attempt to take another's love may not be the kindest act, but when have I ever been kind? When have I ever been anything but myself?

I stretched out towards her, curious to see how she would respond. I was delighted to see that she came to me without a second glance to her partner. We began to dance and I was mesmerized. Finally, I saw she was beautiful. I wanted her for myself. I took her away from her partner, further away from his prying eyes, and continued the dance.

But, for all her new individuality, she still struggled to keep some things the same. She began to turn back and look for her clown. I shrugged and continued. The dance had become boring but nothing else was about to interest me further.

I noticed a twinkle out of the corner of my eye and, for the first time, beheld the group of Diablo Girls as they practiced. They giggled infectiously and I was captivated by the darling children. I did not bid goodbye to her. The girls called to me and I followed, settling upon the floor to watch them, and the footsteps behind me assured me the Pierrot Clown's Columbina had returned to him. It was the last thought I gave her.

Yes, I know that isn't the entirety of it. At times, when the world was truly still, I would look for her again. The excitement of battling with my twin for her charms amused me. But always she returned and I never minded. She was a distraction, after all. Everything was.

If neither of them saw it, well, more's the pity for them. That didn't make it his concern.


	3. Reve Rouge

Everyone knew about the ridiculous drama between the Pierrot Clown and the Pierrot Rouge and I had grown tired of hearing it. With four women for assistants, it was only natural that they would chatter on and on about how romantic it all was, how lucky the Ballerina was to have such men vying for her attention. I thought it was all sentimental nonsense. Romance is nothing but a pretext to a moment's pleasure. It was something I conjured to add women to my group and nothing more. That never made it real. If anyone truly believed that a man felt the words he spun, they deserved to be trapped for being such featherheads.

Now, that didn't mean he criticized either of them for their taste. She really was lovely now that she had shed that girlish flowing dress and embraced a much more seductive part of her personality. I had never looked twice at her before that moment. After, it was difficult not to fall from the silk I climbed on if she slunk out with those legs of hers.

It was not as if the attraction were cone sided, and that is the thought that keeps others from thinking me completely to blame for the ensuing action. I had exited from my room at one point and found her staring at me. She had reached for me. Yes, yes, the Pierrot Clown was next to me. I suppose it was possible she was moving towards him. But I was far more handsome, after all, so what is the likely scenario?

I ran towards her and she coyly ran away. Annoyed once again, I decided to ignore her and wrap my arms within my familiar silk cradle. I saw that she watched me out of the corner of my eye and leaped forward, doing all I could to impress her. It was this that caused me to miss my step and land quite a bit faster than intended. I silently cursed her and turned to tell her to be gone, but she had already vanished.

This was deliberate teasing, plain and simple. That could not be tolerated.

Some days later, my four girls had begun their choreographed routine, and I smiled. Perfect. The music drew the Ballerina out and she danced along with it, her movements fascinating in the shimmering light. I pretended not to notice her then locked eyes, smiling faintly before launching myself into the sky once more. There was no need to go to her. The moment I had landed, she ran towards me, and I encouraged her to leap.

Snug within my arms, I allowed the silk to twirl us higher and higher. Completely isolated, away from the world, it was easy to take what was so freely given.

Once returned to the earth, I carefully dropped her and nearly laughed at the Pierrot Clown's reaction. Clearly he had seen it all. It was no concern of his, though. I returned to my work and saw that he grabbed her wrists a bit roughly. Well, perhaps this would work better for him. The woman needed a strong man to keep her in line and he very much doubted such strength could come out of the Pierrot Clown unless brought about by jealousy.

I watched as their dance became frenzied. He tossed her way only to have her return. I couldn't tell if he truly wanted her to leave him be or reacted out of anger. Either way, it was amusing to watch. They moved, twisted, turned in a way I had not believed possible of either of them. As I returned to the sky, I watched as the Pierrot Clown moved to stand just out of the Ballerina's reach. She stood behind him, too frightened to approach.

I continued my work again and, after a few moments, saw her tentatively reach for him. Seeing he had not moved, she embraced him, laying her head upon his back. Who knew if she forgave him? It was no concern of mine, after all. I had work to do.


End file.
